


What I Never Said, I Sang

by dreamyletters (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, a bit on the poetic side, but it just is, idk what au that is, notintheband!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:38:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1488379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/dreamyletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having five break-ups of relationships not lasting more than three months in a span of two and a half years, Louis figures out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Never Said, I Sang

**Author's Note:**

> I tried a bit of a poetic approach to this. A few moments here, are based on real-life events. Not telling which ahaha. Enjoy!

 

Walking down the pavement fresh from a bad break-up for what seem like the thousandth time, finally makes Louis wonder, 'What the hell is wrong with me, honestly?' His previous boyfriend (who just dumped him approximately 4 minutes ago) had started saying things like, "I think we're drifting apart," and he even said, "I don't think you're just in it, you know?" Wow, and people call him dramatic. But that's entirely besides the point. It's seven forty-four in the evening and he just got dumped again for the fifth time in a span of 2 and a half years -each relationship lasting less than two or three months. Now, he feels like he doesn't really wanna go back to his apartment, so the playground it is then. It was the nearest place to empty his head.

Louis takes the swing, thankful that the playground is quite empty -apart from that guy who seemed like a homeless chap, sleeping on a bench, just across the sandbox. There's a lot of people walking about, probably going home to their warm houses in warm arms and warm cups of tea. But apart from that, Louis is pretty much alone and cold. He digs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, with his arms still wrapped around the metal chains that held up the swing. He pushes back a bit, and lets himself think.

'Not in it? What's that suppose to mean?'

Actually, Louis Tomlinson probably knows.

He takes a breath.

  
It probably started when he was twelve, and the boy was ten. Louis started noticing him because who wouldn't? He's a mess of curls and dimples, all placed into this awkward, wobbly, lanky kid but can smile hundreds of storms away for another day. He walks a little weirdly, maneuvering around the hallway in his baggy pants and tight shirt with his hands holding unto to his backpack. Green. That's what he first thought. Green. Eyes, his shirt, even his shoes. Cute really, but Louis isn't suppose to like boys, was he? But who cares, nobody has to know right? Nobody. So he likes the cute kid with the dimples and the messy hair. Well, he likes Liam too, who's also all smiles and plays footie with him on weekends. Yeah, that's probably it. (Actually, no. The way his heart jumps and the way his lips start forming a smile whenever he sees just a strand of hair of the young boy always seemed like it was something more than a friendly-like.) So Louis stops thinking, and focuses on multiplying these damn fractions. It'll probably go away sooner or later.

Only it doesn't.

It happens during the school's annual talent show contest that Liam entered, so, he has to support him obviously. Liam's even trying to get Zayn to join but Zayn would rather go to the library and read all day than to sing in front of so many people and just have all of their attention and just. Yeah, he'd rather not. Louis doesn't get it either because Zayn is absolutely amazing with his voice, but he leaves it at that. (Only, after Liam's succesful pouting attempts, Zayn finally goes, not to enter -but to support Liam instead. He receives the biggest grin Liam could muster.)

So Louis sits somewhere on the third row, beside Zayn who's looking at the one performing with his eyes so focused, and it almost looked it was shining. He was mouthing the words of the song because apparently he knows it by heart. Zayn takes a breath and Louis suddenly thinks, maybe Zayn actually wanted to join? "You look like you want to be on there," he says. Zayn snaps his head to him, eyes wide then he looks down. "N-No way, I can't." Louis tilts his head. "Why's that?" Zayn sighs, "I just don't like a lot of people looking at me 's all. I don't know, makes me feel all nervous and queasy." Louis was about to ask what queasy means again but his eye catch a mop of curls go up on stage and a smile brighter than the spotlight shining on him. He looks towards the stage, and that's it.

That's pretty much it. That's what nailed it for Louis. "And here we have, Harry Styles, 4th grader to sing his rendition of 'Isn't She Lovely!' A round of applause!" Harry's hand fit around the mic a little awkwardly, but when the music starts and he starts singing, Louis takes a deep breath because there's something constricting his chest and making his hands all prickly and nervous and maybe this is what Zayn was trying to say about feeling queasy and he doesn't get how it's a bad thing. Because even though it makes him feel weird and sick, he likes it, sort of. It has a nice feeling to it, because after the tingling, it's all warmth and sunshine, with Harry and his green, green eyes. Oh, and how he wishes, for the first time in his life (not much but hey, it's still twelve years), for a fucking fourth grader to maybe look at him while he's singing that song. When the song finishes, he lets out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Everyone around him claps, but he doesn't, he couldn't move. All he's thinking is

Harry Styles.

  
Louis pauses to take another breath.

Well, actually, maybe it didn't start there. Maybe it was when he was sixteen and Harry was fourteen. They know each other now, here and there. Mutual friends and all of that -which Louis is quite thankful for. Bless Niall Horan for being a friendly little arse introducing everyone to everyone during lunch when they all sat together for once due to some circumstance that Louis doesn't remember anymore. Anyway, after all the years have passed, the crush still remains, which is both ridiculous and life-threatening to Louis because Harry's growing and so is he. Since they know each other now, he can't help but feel hope bloom from his chest and god, every time Harry looks at him or does that cute little wave when they pass by each other in the halls, it makes him feel. Which is probably a bad thing. But hey, since two years ago, he's already decided that he absolutely have no chance with completely straight as a rod Harry Styles that was caught snogging a higher-batch underneath the staircase on the third floor. He might've been hurt, but kissing boys behind the school while they push him a bit on the wall is what makes up for that. (They didn't last long either.)

It happens again, in a party this time.

Him, Liam and Zayn (well, Zayn didn't want to go, but Liam got him to do so anyway. It's becoming a routine.) were invited to someone's friend of someone's cousin's party by Niall, and it was a pretty big thing. Probably a birthday bash or something. It was probably a sweet sixteen, because they're coming in a really nice and big-enough house, and there are lights, booming music and even a stage up front -full band set too. Looks like someone was playing later or whatever. Niall greets them around the drinks, already a bit buzzed himself and offers them beer. Liam declines -so does Zayn (true friends definitely,) but Louis takes up the offer. Free beer and underage drinking is what high school is all about anyway. They start talking to people they know, and people they don't know and for a minute there, Louis swore he saw a mop of hair and a pair of green eyes walk near the stage.

And yeah, he's there. Definitely, Harry fucking Styles up on stage with who seemed like band mates.

He's absolutely stunning in all his sweaty glory which is creepy and gross for Louis but who cares. Nobody knows, nobody. He holds unto his red plastic cup nicely -the alcohol's probably getting to him, right? Isn't that how it works? (No, he figures out in later years, but anyway,) Harry taps on the mic twice then says, "Hello everyone. How's everyone doin'?" He starts, his voice in a drawl that makes Louis both fond and pissed at the same time. "Alright. Well, we're gonna play a few songs for you guys, yeah? We're White Eskimo by the way. Oh and, thank you Lisa for inviting us." He winks, Louis wants to punch his face and kiss his lips simultaneously.

The alcohol's definitely getting to him.

And when he starts singing, it's 6th grade all over again. He's tunnel vision for Harry, not minding people at all. Everything was black and white and he's not sure how close he was to the stage but he swore, for a second there, Harry looked at him. He almost drops the cup but quickly rationalizes that there's a shit ton of other people here that Harry could be looking at. Only, he finds himself wishing again. For Harry to keep on singing, yeah, and then make his way from the stage, to the crowd and then towards him, and singing every lyric of the song to him, on his skin. He wants Harry to lull him to sleep, and wake him up with that voice of his, a few tones lower than he remembers. He wants to feel those fingers, clutching the mic on his arms, legs, his body, everything.

He wants...

Louis stops there, looks for Liam and Zayn somewhere in the couches away from the stage. "I think I'm proper drunk," he says, they find them snuggled up together. "Let's go, yeah?" Liam then nods. "Alright, if you say so."

So they went.

  
Louis sighs. Was it really there that started this? No, probably not, he thinks.

Maybe it started when he was seventeen and alone in the music room of the school. The dismissal bell have rung about twenty minutes ago, so he's sure mostly everyone have started to get home. Louis was supposed to be going home too, his mom is definitely gonna give him an earful but, a little bit of fun won't hurt. He's poking around the piano, then after awhile he's actually sitting down and starts singing a little. "If I don't say this now, I will surely break, as I'm leaving the one I want to take," he starts, and doesn't hear the door slowly opening to reveal Harry, fifteen and still a mess of curls with his eyes still as green as it was. At this point, they're proper mates because Louis thinks "Fuck it, might as well." They hit off absolutely well and Louis even wonders why the hell was he so awkward and shite before. He's not even like that usually. He considers himself flamboyant and pretty friendly. Only, in front of this boy does he become a bunch of nerves unable to be his charming and suave self. Harry loves laughing at Louis as Louis loves making Harry laugh -like it's been made like that since forever. Niall calls them disgusting at one point, but he thinks they're just really made for one another. In a platonic way of course.

Of course.

"Didn't know you sang," Harry says, his voice a little deeper now. Louis stops playing and whips his head towards Harry who was now beside him. Harry smiles at him and Louis' really pissed at himself for not being able to just fucking control his feelings and god, calm down Tomlinson he's not the messiah. "I don't," Louis says instead. Harry gives him a look. "You sound good, great even." Louis laughs, that tinkling laugh that resonates in the room. "Not as good as you though," he says. Harry grins, and looks down. Oh, was he being shy? Bless the boy. The older of the two then does his own rendition of Skinny Love on the piano. He can feel the way Harry stares at him at the corner of his eye, but chooses to ignore it. He continues, singing and playing, as if the words were all meant to express what he felt for Harry. He likes to pretend they do have this kind of thing -skinny love and all of that. Louis likes to pretend. His fingers would wobble a bit from time to time, and he'd hit a wrong key but that's fine. Only both of them knew, and Harry didn't mind at all. Maybe Harry liked to pretend too? Pretend that everything was just perfect and great, and nothing was wrong with Louis. Not at all. (Louis never had the chance to know.)

"I told you to be patient, and I told you to be fine," Harry starts singing along, their voices mixing and blending together on point. It was an absolutely remarkable experience for Louis. Because for a moment, just for one moment, he could feel that they were in love. Like it wasn't pretend. Like it was the actual thing. Louis felt that they were together, properly together. That they were the missing pieces of each other's puzzles. That he was the beach and Harry was his ocean, and when his waves crashed, Louis is there, always there. That he was a man with a telescope, and Harry was the galaxy, with his voice placing all of the stars in the sky -like placing notes in a piece of empty paper that Louis held dearly. That as long as the song went on and continued, they were perfectly placed together, side by side with nowhere else to go because they've found their place.

As the song comes to its end, they both looked at each other. Blue meets green, and they're saying things with no words. Louis doesn't understand any of it because Harry's standing up. "We should go home," he says. Louis then nods. ('I already am.')

 

Yeah, that's definitely where it started Louis muses -and it's also where everything stopped.

Things started to become different after that. Suddenly, they need to touch and be together all the time. If given a choice, they'd sit right next to each other, attached from hip to toe, never going anywhere unless they had to. Sometimes, their fingers would find themselves almost tangling, but Louis would retrieve his hand right at that moment -he couldn't, he wouldn't. Harry's straight, and they're best friends. He can't throw all of that down the drain just because of some stupid left-over feelings from grade school. Although, that hasn't stopped him from maybe staring at Harry's lips while he was talking about Gemma giving him a hard time at home and about something Louis doesn't hear anymore. Zayn nudges him, he gulps and glares at the way Zayn smirks. Liam asks why, and Zayn would just shake his head while Louis would roll his eyes. Niall then starts another story after Harry and their days go on like that.

But the moments that counted aren't those. It's the quiet moments, alone together in the music room -their place of solitude. It's the wordless conversations and the songs they sang like it filled the words they lost in the moment. It's the times their fingers would brush together on the piano when Louis was teaching him about chords and how everything is connected with one another. It's the times Harry would grin at him when he correctly does a chord on the guitar. It's the way Louis would look at Harry like he was the sun; shining, glowing and absolutely stunning. It's the way Harry would look at him like he hung each star in the sky , or the way he'd touch Louis like it was going to save him. It's that moment when Louis surprised Harry while he was alone in the music room and just having a breath in front of the fan. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck from behind and he was about to remove his limbs when suddenly, Harry pulled him back and whispered, "Stay here. Just stay."

He's not sure if that's what he heard, but he stays anyway. Louis swore Harry could hear the way his heart was racing and absolutely being a wreck inside his ribs. But maybe Harry was the same because his breath was a little ragged -like he was nervous. Through all of that, they both stay still in comfortable silence. Until the other three come in. They've already broken apart at that point. "C'mon you two, mom's inviting you lot for dinner," Zayn says, both of them nod and Louis closes the door behind him as they walk out of the room.

 

Louis stops, takes another breath and stands up. He starts walking back to the sidewalk, and waits for a cab. He manages to get one, and he sits comfortably beside the window. The radio's blaring out something soft, he couldn't hear the words but it's a little familiar. Probably something he's heard from before. His phone then buzzes in his pocket.

'Hey mate r u busy this weekend? Ed's playing in this pub I know. You and lads should def come! :) xx'

He smiles, and taps a reply. 'Sure, perf timing 2. Just got dumped :('

A reply comes in, in less than a minute. 'What??????????? What the hell how does that even happen 2 u ur like amazin and great'

Louis thinks, 'then why don't you date me', but he replies with 'Idk m8, it's fine. I didnt like the way he smelled anyways lol'

Hary replies, ':( I'll call u wait so we can talk'

Louis grins and rolls his eyes. 'It's fine im not rlly sad or anythin. Besides im in a cab'

Harry replies anyway, 'Callin' youuuuuu'

He sighs but grins. Louis counts down, '3, 2, 1' and his phone starts ringing. It's becoming a thing for both of them perhaps. Five times and Harry's still the one who's calling him and making him 'feel better'. Not that he needed it. He needed to feel better about something else. (Like the fact that it's been eleven years and he's still ridiculously in love with Harry that he couldn't even form a proper relationship.) He swipes the receive button and places the phone next to his ear.

"Wanker," he replies, and he's chuckling. Receiving a look from the driver but he could care less. Harry laughs, his voice rough but smooth all the same -like the first sip of whiskey on a chilly night like this. It's sexy and sends tingles right up in Louis' spine. He's actually been contemplating about giving himself a reward that says 'Most Pathetic Arse' sticking it on his forehead for everyone to see. "You sure you're alright though?" Harry says, and Louis nods -until he remembers he's on the phone. "Yeah, I am. It's funny though," Louis says, while looking at nothing in particular. Harry then asks, "Why? What's funny about you getting dumped?" Louis laughs a bit, "It's just. My past 5 relationships? They all have the same reason, on why they broke up with me." He watches each streetlight the cab passes by. "They said, I just wasn't really into them. Which I guess, is true." Harry then says, "I don't get it? But you're dating them. Isn't that part of the criteria."

"I thought so too."

"Then, why?"

_Because I'm still into you._

Harry is silent. Did he say it out loud? He doesn't know, and he feels like he doesn't want to know. Because Harry's not talking and it's making Louis feel sick and disgusting. He tries to gulp it down, only now he's a little out of breath. Harry still hasn't dropped the call which is kind of surprising. The cab makes a stop, and he quickly pays before heading out. Was Harry so astounded by that fact that it's left him speechless? Reminds him of a few years back then -around three years ago. It was one of those night, where Liam, Zayn and Niall were all too busy with their lives that the only people who could live up to lads' night was them. They were in Harry's apartment -the one he was sharing with Niall. Louis was on the floor, sitting in the space between Harry's legs, facing the telly. They were watching some kind of stupid romcom that Harry picked of course -it was appropriate during the time anyway, February rolling about. Chips and cans of beer were scattered on the table and the floor -they were both buzzed but not drunk enough to do anything stupid, although probably not, Louis thinks. Because he blurts out, "I think I like you, Harry." Which Harry responds with, "Me too. I like you too, Louis."

Louis' heart skipped a beat, only for him to realize that Harry meant it in a friendly way -because it didn't sound like the way they sang when they were seventeen and fifteen. It didn't sound like he meant every words -because it sounded like some kind of practiced reply. Like an automatic response he gets when he asks Siri why did hangovers ever have to exist. So he tries again, because fuck everything, right? "I think I like you a little more than I should," he says, a little quieter now -nothing like him at all. Louis is loud, loud and loud so Harry's surprised by it this time. It take awhile for him to process it until he pulls his legs up. "Oh," is all he says. And Louis doesn't know if he should be hurt by the fact that he actually expected something more, or he got what he told himself a million times since he was thirteen. ('He'll never like me, never ever.')

He had picked himself by then, excuses himself quickly and shut the door behind him.

 

The line goes dead, and Louis' arm drops to his side.

The climb upstairs to his flat was more tiring that usual. Maybe it was because it's already late and he is tired. It's only 8 in the evening though -Louis likes making excuses. He takes the keys out, opens the door, kicks it to close it again and doesn't bother with his shoes anymore. He immediately flops down on his couch, dropping the phone the floor. 'Pathetic, absolutely pathetic is what I am,' he thinks, over and over and over again. But Louis doesn't cry -no, he's done that enough back then, when he ran back to his apartment like the shite he is. He's done that enough for Liam and Zayn to come knocking on his door three days later, asking him what's wrong. He's done that enough that the next time he met Harry again, they shrugged it off like it was nothing -which hurt him more, but he's done enough.

He's cried enough since he was twelve, sixteen and seventeen.

He's closed the door, and that was it. (But always keeps it unlocked.)

 

Fifteen minutes later, someone's knocking on the door as Louis' heating up a kettle for some tea before going to bed. His eyes were puffy and he was tired -he need to rest. Because when life is shit, sleeping it off is the best way to escape from it for awhile. The knocking gets louder and frantic -much to Louis' annoyance. "Yeah, yeah I'm getting there just wait. What the hell-" as he briskly opens the door, here lies Harry Edward Styles, panting a little bit, hands on his hips. Louis blinks. Harry's jacket was a little skewed, and his hair looked like it just went through ten different blow dryers -but that wasn't the point at that moment. Harry's eyes looked hurt, but fond but also confused. His lips were quivering and pink, with his cheeks flushed and Harry was just there. At Louis' door. "Harry, what-"

"You're unfair." Harry starts, completely cutting him off. Which makes Louis look at him, more astounded that he already was. "Excuse me?" Harry licks his lips, looks away for a moment then stares right back at Louis, eyes fierce -not angry, just a hint of something Louis isn't familiar with.

"You're really fucking unfair, throwing that "I'm still into you" line on me, Louis." The way Harry says his name hasn't changed. Louis keeps his mouth shut.

"How can you do that really? You just -you just take me by surprise and then you're expecting for an answer, when I'm still fucking processing the fact that you like me, that you're in love with me. And then the next minute, you're gone and all hurt, and it's gonna be my fault isn't it?" Harry's voice is starting to raise and Louis snaps out of his silence.

"Okay, hold up, alright? First of all, I didn't say I was in love with you--- " Harry interjects, "But you are." And then suddenly, Harry's eyes are just full of... of something that Louis had never imagined seeing in his eyes. He ignores it -it's just Harry's eyes. They're green, just green. Nothing else, definitely nothing else. That's what got him going the first time -he's not gonna get stuck around that again. Louis then lets out an airy chuckle, "Full of yourself, aren't you? Look, Harry if you just came all the way here to tell me that then congratulations you've done your job. You can go." He's making his way to close the door when Harry pushes it open, making his way inside, making Louis take a few steps back. "You never let me finish, do you?" Louis looks at him confused asking, "What?"

"Louis, hasn't it occurred to you that it took you about just five seconds to get out of that apartment when you confessed to me three years ago?" Louis is staring at Harry, dumbfounded and speechless. His mouth is slightly open and he's definitely not hearing those words. "Hasn't it occurred to you that maybe in those five seconds I'm trying to construct a sentence in my head -where a lot of shit is going on -trying to say 'Oh really? Because Louis, I've been in love with you since I was twelve, which is pretty pathetic because it's been five years and I'm still into you.'" Harry takes a pause, reaches out for one of Louis' hands and holds it tight. Louis is scared now, for his dear life. He feels like his heart is going to burst wide open. He's definitely not hearing those words, right? Definitely not. "Louis, hasn't it occurred to you that maybe I'm in love with you? Because I think it was pretty obvious when we started getting close. Especially in that music room."

That's when Louis breaks, but he just starts looking up, fearing for tears to start spilling. Harry's not saying this to him, Harry's not. Louis' already made up his mind since so many years ago that Harry will never ever, not ever like him, or love him more than a best mate or brother. That's what they are and that's how they'll be. He's a man, so is Harry. That's not how it works right? Besides, even if Harry was gay even back then -he doesn't deserve that. Doesn't deserve that beautiful smile, those wonderful eyes and that stunning voice. He doesn't deserve the sun, doesn't deserve the ocean or the galaxy. But what destroys every single wall that Louis had put up to keep his hope from growing more than what it should, is the fact that Harry's holding his hand, now pulling it to his chest and Louis can't breathe anymore.

So Louis does what he has too. He takes a breath, leaning forward and crashes his lips on Harry.

Louis closes his eyes tightly, and he could feel Harry's hands holding him by the waist as he bends down a little while Louis tiptoes just a bit, placing his hands around Harry's neck. Their lips are moving to a rhythm like a song is playing in between the spaces of their fingertips. Suddenly, it's seventeen and fifteen again -their first duet. They're not having any conversations right now but Louis knows, every move, every slick of tongue and teeth grazing on lips meant 'IloveyouIloveyou _I'vealwayslovedyou_ '. It was just like how every note and every key of every song they sang were words to tell each other what they couldn't say with words. Harry pulls apart and pushes their foreheads together. His eyes are still closed -opening them isn't needed. All he needed was to feel, feel Louis, Louis is here. Louis' eyes are opened this time -because he's kept them closed all through those years. Harry is here, he can feel Harry. He's right here, in Louis' hands, in his apartment, in him. Harry is here with him, just like how he wanted. And needed.

  
"Oh," he says quietly.

Harry smiles and closes the door behind him. They make their way to Louis' bed and tangle their bare skin with the sheets. They leave the lights on and the door unlocked.

 

 

The kettle whistles.

 


End file.
